


A Muggy Morning in Manchester

by femmedefoi



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Coffee date, F/M, Fluff, Fred Weasley is a Good Friend, Wholesome, bit of angst, hermione goes back to the muggle world, hermione is tired, hermione works at a bookstore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:20:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24039535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femmedefoi/pseuds/femmedefoi
Summary: One-Shot about Fred and Hermione's early relationship and married life. Slightly fluff
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 74





	A Muggy Morning in Manchester

_"brrrrrrrrring! brrrrrrrrring!"_

Hermione groaned and rolled over languidly to tap the button on her alarm clock. Turning back over and seeing that Fred was still asleep, she carefully extricated herself from his arm and made to get out of bed.

Goosebumps dotted her flesh as she stood up and discarded the covers, and for a moment, she considered crawling back into bed, and returning to the comfort of both the soft blankets and her husband's arms, but she resisted. Never one to laze about, even on a weekend, Hermione was determined to make the most of the day.

She approached the dresser and pulled out a loose-fitting, lavender colored blouse, then made her way over to the closet where she located her favorite pair of jeans. Folding the clothes neatly, she placed them on the top of the dresser before leaning down to brush her lips across Fred's forehead, grabbing her wand and outfit, and heading off to shower.

Hermione turned the handle of the shower and let the water run lightly over her hand until it reached a comfortable temperature. Undressing and stepping onto the ceramic tiles, Hermione audibly sighed as the water ran in warm rivulets over her tense muscles. As much as she loved her job at the Ministry, she certainly wasn't getting any younger, and she knew that the fast-paced, efficient environment where she worked wasn't helping. Just last week, she had come home late -she was loathed to admit it, but early on in their relationship, Fred and Hermione had established that one of their ground rules was returning home by 9:00 at night; thus far, he had been much better at keeping to it- and found Fred on the sofa, fallen asleep waiting up for her. He was too good for her, she worried sometimes. He had waited so patiently and been so understanding, and she felt like she was failing as his wife.

* * *

After the war, Hermione had been exhausted. She was regarded as a hero by the Wizarding community, and in some corner of her mind, she recognized the obligations that came along with that, but for once, she decided to give her well-being priority. She knew she couldn't run forever, but after some careful consideration, Hermione decided that the best course of action was a brief hiatus from the world that had caused her so much devastation.

She had written letters to the Weasleys and Harry, placed them in a large envelope, and dropped them off on the doorstep of the Burrow early one morning, hoping she wouldn't run into anyone. She was almost to the apparition point when she heard someone call out for her.

"Granger?"

She turned around to see one of the twins -no, Fred- standing on the porch, giving her a curious look. Her head told her to keep walking and ignore him, but her heart couldn't stand the lack of closure. She slowly made her way towards the house, towards _him_ , with her head down and hands tucked carefully into the back pockets of her jeans.

"What are you doing here?" he ventured.

"I'm leaving, Fred. I'm leaving and I'm not coming back -not soon, at least. Don't tell me to stay, or ask me to think of the others, because I swear I want to, and I have, but for once I have to think about myself," she let the words tumble out, and felt tears swiftly pricking at her eyes as she looked up at him. "I know it's not what everyone wanted for me, and I know I'm supposed to be fine, and I know that it's not ideal, but I _have_ to do this, Fred."

Fred took a shaky step forward, and Hermione winced for a moment as she remembered him lying deathly still under the rubble of the castle mere weeks prior. _**These** She looked back down at her feet until she felt a hand caress her cheek._

"I get it, Hermione. Maybe more than anyone else, I understand. You've spent so long being everyone else's keeper, it's time to be your own," he paused, ears burning lightly at the intimacy of the moment. "Just...don't be a stranger. Owl us, will you? Don't leave everyone without a trace. It would devastate Mum, you know. She considers you as much of a daughter as Gin- and I know you said, don't ask you to think about the rest of them, and I'm not asking you to let them dictate your decision to leave, but only that you wouldn't leave this world and them, _us_ , behind. Can you do that? Can you promise me not to leave us behind?" 

Hermione nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks silently. 

"I promise, Fred." 

She steeled herself for the goodbye, nodded stiffly and then she left. 

* * *

Within a month, she had found herself a muggle bookstore to work at near Diagon Alley's corner of London. She wrote monthly letters to the Weasley family, short and to the point, just enough to let them know that she was safe, and not to worry. In return, they left her alone. Well, almost. 

Everyone in the family seemed to get the hint. Ron and Harry wrote her a few times before their letters stopped coming. Ginny sent her a postcard every so often. 

And then there was Fred. He wrote her weekly, telling her about the pranks that he and George played and how Ron and Harry were struggling (well, really just Ron) through Auror training. She never responded. 

Just reading his angular scrawl, she felt her heart swell. As much as she needed to leave the Wizarding World behind, she missed her friends, she missed seeing the twins play pranks, she missed the Weasleys. It was a year to the date of her conversation with Fred when she caved. Pulling out a ballpoint pen and a sheet of paper, she took a sip of her morning coffee and began. 

_"Dear Frederick,"_

She crossed that out. Too formal. 

_"Hi Fred,"_

No, that wouldn't work either. Too casual for someone she hadn't talked to in a year. 

_"Fred,"_ she took a sharp intake of breath, that would have to do. Now where to go? It's been a year, where do I start? 

_"It's good to hear that your shop is doing well. You and George really are quite brilliant, and I'm glad you're finally getting the appreciation you deserve. Work has been, well, busy. Or...as busy as a bookstore gets. I love it though, I get to see people of all ages discovering new worlds through books. I miss all of you, though I'm not sure I'm ready to go back anytime soon. It's been a surprising adjustment, not using magic around people, one that I assumed would be an easier transition. I'm finally getting back into the hang of manually locking the door to my flat, I can't imagine what the neighbors would think if they saw me cooking with magic just beyond that wooden division._

_It's been a while, I know. I'm impressed that you're still writing to me at all. But thank you for that. I would've been sad to **not** hear about you all. Honestly, I can't thank you enough."_

She paused before hastily writing one more sentence and then signing her farewell. 

_"I'd love to meet up with you in muggle London for coffee sometime, just to catch up fully._

_Send my love to everyone,_

_Hermione"_

Within minutes, her barn owl Persephone had taken the letter and flown off, and Hermione was left to her own devices. She took one last glance at her apartment and headed down for work. 

* * *

Hermione climbed up the stairs to her apartment. The day had been exhausting -all young children running amuck and messing up the shelving organizations- and all she wanted was to fall into bed. She nearly made it to the bedroom before she noticed the tapping at her window. 

"Oh, Seph! I forgot I sent a letter out this morning." 

Her hands shook as she untied the scroll from around Persephone's ankle, nervous to read the response from the eldest Weasley twin. 

_"Dearest Hermione,_

_I'm positively tickled to hear from you! Of course, I'll meet you for coffee- name a time and place, and I'll be there (or will it be George?)"_ She paused and imagined him winking, and shook her head. 

_"All joking aside, 'Mione, I'm thrilled you wrote back. I was beginning to think that something was the matter, and I'm glad to be able to sit down and see that you're okay with my own eyes. I'll see you soon, I expect._

_Fred"_

Hermione blushed at both the nickname he had coined some months ago, and the obvious concern evident in his words. She quickly grabbed another sheet of paper, scrawled the address of the café next door to the bookshop on it, and then _'Friday at 3:00?'_ before sending it off with Persephone again. 

When she opened the door to _Les Brindilles,_ she nearly cried when she saw him sitting there. Facing away from her, hair a tad more orderly than Harry's always was, he looked around for her, his face lighting up with a genuine, lopsided grin when his eyes landed on her lithe frame.  
He stood up, and Hermione ran towards him, nearly knocking him over with the intensity of her hug. 

"Oh, Fred! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to knock you over, you must still be sore! I was just so excited to see you -it's been too long!" She stumbled over her words as she held him away from her, examining his person. 

"Relax, 'Mione. It's been a year. I'm better," He grinned, and she raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him. "Really, I am!" As if to prove his point, he made a mad dash to the register and ordered them both cappuccinos. He stood near the counter, winking at her for a few moments before their drinks were placed in front of him, and he brought them back carefully, with no uncertainty present in his steps. 

She beamed before allowing him to guide their conversation through the past year, _what had she been up to, how was work, did she have herself a boyfriend, how was she really?_ She smiled and took it in stride, and before she knew it, it was 6:45, and the café was about to close. Fred stood up and offered Hermione his hand, she blushed and, taking it gently, led him outside. 

"That's the shop right there," she gestured, "It's no Flourish and Blotts, but it's pretty nice. We've got a great selection and there are these beautiful nooks all over the place for people to sit and get lost in a book for a few hours." She gushed. 

"Sounds like your kind of place," Fred asserted, his mouth quirked in a slight grin. "So where are you living, these days? I mean, well, I know the address, but how's the flat look?" 

"Already inviting yourself over, Fred? _My my,_ you're forward!" She teased, while pointing to her building, and buzzing them into the complex. 

"Did my ears just deceive me, or did THE Hermione Granger just crack a joke?" Fred asked, in fake shock as they climbed the stairs to Hermione's apartment. She reached into her purse for her keyring, unlocked the door, and ushered him into her living room. 

It was small but orderly. The whole apartment was decorated in dark greens and browns, and as Fred looked around and saw the books that dotted every surface, a smile involuntarily crept its way onto his face. 

Once inside, Hermione made Fred some tea (he was quite impressed that she remembered his favorite to be apple cinnamon) and they settled onto her couch to chat more. Again, the two lost track of time, until Fred suddenly sat straight up with an exclamation of "Merlin's beard!" and jumped off of her sofa. 

"What's the matter, Fred?" Hermione asked, concerned by her friend's sudden change of demeanor. 

"Hermione, it's 10:00! I've been over here for three hours! God, George is going to kill me, I told him I'd be back by 8:00 at the latest." Fred paced back and forth in front of her bookshelves. 

"Well, maybe you should start heading back over. There's an apparition spot just down the road, I'll walk you over." 

The two made their way back down the stairs, and down the street into a nondescript alleyway. They exchanged goodbyes, and Hermione had turned to walk back to her flat when Fred called out to her.  
"Granger?" He looked at her with wide eyes, his face strangely solemn. "Let's make this a habit, shall we? Is once a week alright?" 

Hermione felt a bit of color bleed onto her cheeks as the boy she had harbored a schoolgirl's crush on asked to see her again, and nodded shyly. A genuine smile tore at Fred's face at this, and he blew her a mock kiss before disappearing with a slight 'pop'. Hermione stood there for a moment with a gentle smile creeping onto her face, before departing to her apartment for the night. 

* * *

Fred had considered that their first date, but Hermione disagreed. In her opinion, their first date came three months later, when after their weekly coffee date, he walked her back to her flat and asked to see her the next day for dinner. To this day, they celebrated both dates, even though having two anniversaries (well, three if they were counting their marriage) was far from normal. She hadn't ever expected anything less from Fred. 

To be honest, she hadn't ever expected much from him to begin with, but as their relationship grew, Hermione began to see the depth to the eldest Weasley twin. 

Each time he would come to pick her up, he brought her a single daisy, her favorite flower, a fact he had learned that first night at her apartment. 

When they talked, she saw him intently listen to what she had to say, even when she rambled on about muggles in the bookstore, or house elves (Merlin, it had been a long while since she had said those words). 

When he brought up a topic that pained her, he read the expression on her face and changed the train of conversation immediately. 

He defied the stereotypes she had held about him. 

Where she had once thought him to be brash, she discovered his sensitive side. 

His pranks, which she once thought rude and irreverent, were now seen to encourage joy and laughter. 

He cared, far more than anyone had shown her in a while, and that she couldn't ignore. He was her comfort when she had no one else to turn to in the midst of a breakdown about the war, her confidant when she needed to vent about wanting to hex the stuffing out of a stupid schoolboy who sent the bookstore into disarray, her closest friend when she had news to celebrate. 

When she had decided she was ready to come back to the Wizarding World to work, she floo-ed for the first time in three years to Fred's flat, and rushed down the home-sickeningly familiar stairs to the shop, where Fred had scooped her up in his arms and swung her around in front of his twin and all of their customers. 

A few weeks later, she was working at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes as a novice innovator with the twins, the proud inventor of the "Phony Fiction", a novel that appeared to be a textbook, through some clever charmwork. Hermione hadn't missed a beat when she jumped back into the Magical community, and when she moved in with Fred a few months later, she was pleased to say that her creativity rivalled his during late night brainstorming sessions with the twins. 

Every part of her return to the Wizarding World was cloaked in laughter, thanks to Fred. Their first date, once she returned, was him taking him to the soon-to-be-second location of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and telling her about the plans he had to make it breathtaking. Their first anniversary was a trip to a muggle theatre to see a film, during which he muttered what was, in his opinion, "better dialogue" than what the actors were _really_ saying. Even his proposal was shrouded in mischief. 

On the day of the second storefront's opening, Fred made a big show about telling the press that he would be cutting a ribbon with giant scissors to officially open the doors, after explaining that it was a muggle tradition. As he stepped up to the ribbon, Hermione standing to the left of the door watching him with a huge grin on her face, he made the cut. The scissors went almost all the way through the ribbon, but caught at the very bottom, an occurrence which prompted a curious look on Hermione's face until she heard someone in the crowd shout, 

"It's a ring!" 

Before she had time to process what that could _possibly_ mean, Fred was in front of her, on one knee. 

"Hermione, I've been in love with you for eight years now. I've seen your passion for justice, your generous nature, your fun-loving, quick-thinking, comical mind, and your fierce determination. You have enriched every part of my life, through magic and muggles, pranking and principles, laughs and losses. I can't imagine making mischief for the rest of my life without having you by my side, so, Hermione Granger, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" 

Before he could stand up she had thrown herself onto him, tears streaming down her face, and hands clasped around his neck, whispering "Yes, a million times, yes." 

The crowd went wild, and within moments, the future Mrs. Fred Weasley was aiding her fiancé in opening up the newest branch of his joke shop. 

They returned to their flat that night early, making the most of their newly minted engagement status with Fred reading Hermione's favorite book out loud, while she rested with her head on his stomach, the glint of her ring catching light from the fireplace as she fell asleep to the sound of her fiancé's voice. 

* * *

She missed those early days of their relationship, she mused as she turned the water off in the shower; the ones where she was still working at the bookshop and he was managing the Diagon Alley shop with George. Now, they had both moved on in their careers, her to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and him to the newest branch of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes in Hogsmeade. 

While she couldn't complain about their progress in the professional world, she was afraid that they had lost their youth and sense of mischief. _Merlin, we're only in our twenties, Hermione, you're acting like we're on our deathbeds!_ She could hear Fred's voice ringing in her mind. She shook her hair out as she toweled herself off and got dressed, and harangued it into a smooth plait down her back. 

She headed downstairs to make herself a cup of tea, only to find her husband grinning at her. She returned the smile and made to grab a mug from the cupboard only to be caught around the waist by a pair of strong arms pulling her towards a solid body. 

"What are you doing Fred?" 

"Why, 'Mione, I thought I would make you your tea this morning, that's all. I know you've had a busy work schedule, and I thought I would take a load off of your shoulders, however small and sugary it may be," He winked. "Besides, I figured you would need your energy before our adventures today, so I made it extra strong." 

Hermione groaned as she squirmed out of his grasp. She had forgotten that they had promised to babysit Ron and Luna's toddler today. It was their third wedding anniversary, and Ron had wanted to take Luna out for the day without having to worry about Oliver, their son. Hermione loved Oliver, she really did, but he was _quite_ the handful. 

"You know darling, it really is quite muggy outside today. You might want to change out of those jeans and into something a bit lighter." 

Hermione spun around, only to find herself face to face with a smirking Fred. 

"Fred, I swear, if I go outside and all of our mugs are on the lawn…" she trailed off. 

Fred just smiled wider and watched her march angrily to the front door, before hearing her irritated shouts. 

"FREDERICK GIDEON WEASLEY!" 

Maybe they hadn't lost their sense of mischief after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of the first Fred/Hermione pieces I wrote, hope you enjoy!


End file.
